


Delivery

by all-i-need-is-destiel (Aleakim)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Injured Dean, M/M, Pizza Man Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:50:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7192205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleakim/pseuds/all-i-need-is-destiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean voices a special request at his favorite pizza place, he doesn't expect the outcome.</p><p>_</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delivery

 

“What do you wanna eat?”

“I dunno ...”

“Oh c'mon, Dean! Stop being a sulky shit!”

Sam pouts like a toddler, eyeing his brother reproachfully. And Dean can't help but return it because, yeah, he may be a little moody and even a bit of a handful for the last four weeks, but obviously Sam ran out of sympathy somewhere along the way. Admittedly, he didn't have much of it to begin with – always teasing and making stupid jokes –, however, sometimes he played the devoted caretaker and pitied Dean like he's actually supposed to do.

Since Dean's current situation is absolutely crappy and he deserves all the compassion he can get, _dammit_!

“So I'm not allowed to be in a bad mood?” Dean snarls. “I'm trapped in this house for weeks, man. And I'm _so fucking sick_ of it! I want to go out, have some fun, meet some people.”

Sam sighs. “I know, Dean. I get that it sucks. But it won't be for long.”

Dean rolls his eyes because that doesn't make it any better. His right foot is _still_ in a freaking cast and _still_ hurting like hell and he can't even imagine that it'd ever be better at some point.

And only because he missed a step on the stairs and lost his balance.

Just one fucking second and everything changed!

And _of course_ Dean managed to break his bones in the most complicated way possible. He remembers the worried faces of the doctors quite vividly, discussing in hushed voices how they should approach this and Dean feared then and there that they were looking for some nice words to tell him he would never walk again.

In the end it took a really long surgery, a lot of pain killers, an ugly cast and a lot of promises that he _most definitely_ will be able to walk again in the near future.

“You know what the doctors said,” Sam reminds him in his irrevocable dad-voice that sounds utterly wrong coming out of his mouth. “Your foot needs rest. No unnecessary pressure or movements.”

“And no booze because of the fucking pain pills, _I know_ ,” Dean grumbles. “What do you think I'm doing here? I'm sitting on my ass all day long and it's been sore since day three. So I'm sorry for being a 'sulky shit', but I've got every right to be, don't you think?”

Sam just mumbles something under his breath – probably nothing nice and compassionate – before he grabs the phone and says, “I'm just ordering a pizza, alright?”

“Two,” Dean counters. “I'm starving.”

“Fine.”

“And give me the phone,” Dean says, reaching his arm out. “I'll do it.”

Sam hesitates for a second, apparently contemplating if his brother is pursuing some evil plan, but in the end he complies, probably not very eager to hear any more of Dean's complaints. “Pepperoni for me,” he says, giving Dean the phone and their usual pizza place's number.

“ _Heaven's Order_ ,” a cheerful voice answers almost immediately. Dean assumes it's the owner – a guy named Gabriel who knows way too many inappropriate jokes –, but because of the noises in the background Dean can't be entirely sure. “How can I hep you?”

“Hey, I'd like to order two pizzas, one pepperoni and one meat,” Dean says. “As much meat as you can find.”

The man chuckles amused – and yeah, it sounds quite like Gabriel – and Dean rattles down their address, adding a “Please hurry, I'm fucking famished” for good measure.

“No problem, dude,” Gabriel promises.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Dean blurts out before the other man is able to say goodbye. “Send the cutest delivery person you've got. Because I'm stuck in this house for weeks, man, and all I see everyday is my brother's stupid face. I could use a nice change.”

Gabriel laughs aloud now. “Your order's coming right up, pal.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean says grinning before he hangs up and totally ignores Sam's bitchface #12 that says, _“Why am I even putting up with you, you stupid jerk?”_

Only fifteen minutes later the doorbell rings. Sam is about to raise from the couch, but Dean grabs his shoulder and pushes him back. “That's _my_ order, bitch! Just stay here and be quiet.”

Sam snorts, but underneath his obvious petulance there's some hidden amusement as well.

Dean allows himself a pleased smile, grabs his crutches and rises very ungracefully from the sofa. Sam watches him concerned, most likely keen to come to Dean's rescue if he'd would overbalance or whatever, but Dean just ignores him and hobbles toward the front door.

And outside stands … well, the undeniable proof that Gabriel takes every order very seriously.

Because the delivery guy is probably the most handsome man Dean ever encountered.

 _Shit_.

An athletic body, tousled hair, slender fingers (and Dean tries desperately not to think about what they could do to him because otherwise he'd sport a freaking boner right here and now) and eyes which seem to be from another world.

And Dean suddenly realizes that he's still in his sweatpants and probably looks like a pathetic piece of shit who spent the whole day on the couch.

And he may have an excuse for that, but he still feels the heat crawling across his face.

“I'm sorry,” the guy says and _God_ , that voice! “Gabriel told me about your … um, special order. Unfortunately I was the only one available right now.”

Dean blinks a few times and forces his slow brain to come back on track. “What?”

“At least the pizza is hot and tasty,” the man says, pointing at the pizza boxes in his hand and smiling apologetically.

Dean just stares at him incredulously. Does he really think Dean is disappointed?

 _Hell no_!

On the contrary! Dean expected a cute enough guy or girl who he could flirt with for a little while to feel like his old self again. Nothing more and nothing less.

But this … this is _so much more_ than that.

He just doesn't want to flirt superficially with the guy and then forget about it five minutes later. No, he wants the man's name, his phone number, his fucking life story!

“Don't worry,” Dean blurts out. “Gabriel's got my request perfectly right.”

The guy's eyes widen for a bit and his cheeks start to color. _Awesome_!

“Oh,” he says, sounding quite surprised but definitely not displeased. “Well then … alright.”

He smiles awkwardly, obviously not sure how to continue. As if the whole concept of flirting is totally alien to him. And that makes him utterly endearing.

“Would you … would you maybe come inside and put the pizza in the kitchen?” Dean asks. “It's a bit difficult with the crutches and stuff.”

“Of course,” the guy says instantly and rushes inside the house as if he needs to win a contest. He puts the boxes on the counter and asks, “Should I help you? Grab a plate or …?”

Dean's lips curl upwards. “Thank you, um …?”

“Castiel,” the guy offers with the most beautiful smile ever.

“Castiel? Interesting name. It's nice.” Dean can't help but think about saying it more often in the future. “I'm Dean.”

“It's a pleasure meeting you,” Castiel says earnestly.

“So, I've never seen you around before,” Dean tells him while trying to handle his crutches at the same time. He's never really got the hang of them and he actually _doesn't want to_ because he's determined to not use them for long. “I mean, you never delivered the pizza before.”

Castiel shrugs. “I actually don't really work for Gabriel. I'm just polite and stupid enough to help his business occasionally when someone calls in sick.”

Dean leans forward a bit. “And Gabriel is your …?”

_Please don't say 'boyfriend'. Please don't say 'boyfriend'._

_Or even 'husband'._

“Brother,” Castiel tells him and Dean draws in a relieved breath.

“Yeah, I've got one of those too,” Dean states. “He's sitting in the living room right now and is probably about to yell at me to hurry the fuck up before the pizza will get cold.”

Castiel doesn't seem fazed by this at the slightest. “It's fresh. It will take more than two minutes for that, I can assure you. Gabriel brings a lot of his pizza to my place once in a while to bribe me. And unfortunately it's quite delicious and works every single time.”

Dean laughs loudly. “Maybe you're just too nice.”

“Yes, maybe I am.”

And Dean muses that this is definitely a flaw he could live with.

Castiel watches him unbashfully with a soft expression and Dean can't keep his heart from racing like crazy. It's been a long time since someone looked at him that _openly_ , no ulterior motive or anything, just honest interest to learn more about him. And Castiel seems to be the type who observes really thoroughly and Dean starts to wonder if the guy's maybe counting his freckles or trying to determine his eye color. At least it's super distracting and Dean doesn't mind it one bit.

“ _Dean_?” the voice of Dean's very annoying brother suddenly exclaims from the other room. “Do you need help with the pizza? Since you're, y'know, a _gimp_?”

Dean grits his teeth. “I hate the guy sometimes,” he grouches.

Castiel chuckles amused, but stops almost immediately after realizing what he's doing. “Oh, I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to make fun of you and your injury.”

But Dean just waves him off. “Nah, it's okay. Sometimes you need to laugh about that stuff, otherwise you'd be depressed and bitter all the time.”

“How did it happen, if I may ask?”

“I'm a clumsy idiot,” Dean explains, shrugging. “I was distracted for a second and suddenly I was falling down the stairs. I'm lucky nothing worse happened to me, but, yeah, it still sucks.”

“I'm sorry,” Castiel repeats, still looking a little bit crestfallen and _no, no, no,_ that so not okay!

“No, please, don't feel bad about it,” Dean says, trying to smile reassuringly. “It's actually kinda refreshing, y'know? Pity is quite nice at the beginning – Mrs. Jones from across the street is baking me a pie every week since it happened –, but it gets really irritating at some point.”

“ _Dean_!” Sam calls again. “Are you done with flirting? Because I'm fucking hungry and I'll be in the kitchen in thirty seconds, no matter what!”

Dean grumbles indignantly, but Castiel looks rather amused again and Dean decides all of a sudden that this is quite worth it.

“I've got to go anyway,” Castiel says. “There are other pizzas to be delivered.”

Dean feels a strong pang of regret. A stupid part of himself hoped to invite Castiel to stay with him, at least for a little while. And of course it's really ridiculous to think that considering the fact that Castiel is still working and that Dean is practically a stranger anyway, but he can't help himself.

“Um … are you working tomorrow too?” Dean asks.

There's is something indecipherable glinting in Castiel's stunning eyes. “Gabriel convinced me to help him out for the rest of the week. At least for a few hours in the evening.”

“Alright … great.” Dean smiles broadly. “Then I'll definitely see you around.”

Castiel seems fairly pleased by the prospect. “I'm looking forward to it, Dean.”

  
  


* * * * *

  
  


The next five days Dean orders pizza at _Heaven's Order_ every single day.

And Sam bitches about it constantly, but Dean really doesn't care. Because as soon as Castiel is standing on his porch, smiling at him, everything else doesn't matter.

Every day Dean learns a little bit more about this man. During the day Castiel works at a bookstore in town (and Dean remembers passing the shop on a few occasions, but never took the time to take a look around) and he loves his job immensely. When he starts to talk about his favorite authors and books his eyes start to shine beautifully and Dean's stomach flips at the sight.

Beside Gabriel Castiel's got a bunch of brothers and sisters, but apart from Gabriel, who needs getting used to, but has a good heart, and his sister Anna, who unfortunately lives two states over, he never really got along with them. They expected Castiel to go into the family business and push numbers all day long and when Castiel finally decided to take another path, their already strained relationship turned frosty. Even the fact that the bookstore's owner plans to make Castiel his successor didn't impress them at least a little bit.

Well, _morons_.

Furthermore Castiel likes tea, cats, watching Netflix on a free day and Dean calling him 'Cas' (which happened by accident the first time, but he seemed highly delighted by it so Dean kept it up). He may be a bit awkward and odd and nearly every reference and innuendo goes straight over his head, but nonetheless he's funny in a sarcastic kind of way ( _“You just need to when you're Gabriel's sibling.”_ ) and maybe the nicest guy ever. He volunteers at the animal shelter every week and does the grocery shopping for his elderly neighbor.

And Dean … Dean is falling a little bit in love with him.

On the fifth day he finally kicks his own ass because it's Castiel last day in Gabriel's service for an indefinite time and he seriously doesn't want to miss his chance. Especially since he can't just walk into the bookstore with his injured foot and he wouldn't bear to wait until he'll be able to again.

“Uh … Cas?” Dean asks, biting his bottom lip nervously. “Would you … well, would you maybe like to go out with me? Sometime?”

Castiel smiles easily, obviously expecting this all along.

And okay, Dean didn't act very subtle about that anyway.

“Well, right now I can't really _'go out'_ ,” Dean continues. “I mean, I could try of course, but I've been with Sam at a diner the other day and it's been torture. The seats weren't right and and I couldn't really prop my foot and most of the time I was trying to ignore the throbbing pain and …” He takes a deep breath. “I don't want it to be like that with you. So we could wait or do something else … I mean, if you even want to, of course.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, but in a fond kind of way. “How about I'll make you some home-cooked dinner tomorrow night? I'll bring the ingredients and you'll allow me to take over your kitchen.”

Dean blinks.

Yeah, that sounds … really nice.

“Uh … sure,” he says. “But … anything but pizza, okay?”

Castiel chuckles. “How about burgers?”

Dean beams like the sun itself. “Awesome!”

And before he knows what's happening Castiel suddenly leans closer and presses a kiss onto his lips. It's chaste and absolutely innocent, but nonetheless Dean's heart feels like it's about to jump out of his chest.

“Um …”

“I know it customary to wait _after_ the date, but I wanted to do this since you opened the door the first day,” Castiel tells him, still so fucking close their lips are almost touching. “I hope you don't mind.”

Dean shakes his head instantly, not daring to speak because he's quite certain that he's not able to form a coherent sentence.

“Good.” Castiel's smile turns blinding and Dean can't take his eyes off. “Then I will see you tomorrow.”

He kisses Dean again, soft, unhurried, before he pulls away, whispers a soft goodbye and leaves with a smile on his lips.

Dean stays at his spot, staring after Castiel, even after he's long gone, and gripping the kitchen counter.

 _God_ , he's not sure he'll survive their date.

But he loves to try.

“Please tell me you asked the guy out,” Sam asks about five minutes later when he walks into the kitchen and finds Dean frozen on the spot and grinning like a lunatic. “Because I'm honestly sick of pizza.”

Dean takes a few tries before he's capable to answer, “Yeah, I … I asked him out.”

“And I hope he said yes,” Sam continues. “I don't want to hear you moping all over the place.”

Dean shoots him a dark glance. “Of course he said yes. I'm awesome!”

Sam huffs exasperatedly. “Whatever, dude.” He pats Dean's shoulder, clearly careful to not make his brother lose balance. “I'm just happy for you, you know?”

Dean's features soften instantly. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Sammy. For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam shrugs it off. “No big deal. You'd have done the same.”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I wouldn't have been so patient.”

Sam snorts. “True. But to be fair, you're more pathetic than I am. I'd have asked him out way sooner.” He sighs melodramatically. “You're honestly shitty at this.”

And Dean grinds his teeth and curses him all night, but nonetheless he can't keep that stupid smile off his face, no matter how hard he tries.

He is already utterly hopeless.

And he can't bring himself to mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://all-i-need-is-destiel.tumblr.com) as well :)


End file.
